Fire Emblem: Dark Gods
by Areleh
Summary: Twenty years after the Demon King is killed, a new darkness washes over Magvel. Now, new and old faces alike must come together and set aside their differences to save the world. But what do you do when the darkness wears the face of the one most precious to you? Rated M for Adult Themes, Violence, Language, and Death. Withness the new chapter to the Sacred Stones world. R & R.


_In an age long past... evil flooded over the land. Creatures awash in the dark tide ran wild, pushing mankind to the brink of annihilation._

_In its despair, mankind appealed to the heavens, and from a blinding light came hope._

_The Sacred Stones..._

_These five glorious treasures held the power to dispel evil._

_The hero Grado and his warriors used the Sacred Stones to combat evil's darkness. They defeated the Demon King and sealed his soul away within the stones._

_With the darkness imprisoned peace returned to Magvel._

_Each of the Five Heroes returned home and carved great nations that held to their ideals and housed the great Sacred Stones._

_The Kingdom of Renais, ruled by Fado, the peerless Warrior King._

_The Kingdom of Frelia, ruled by Hayden, the venerable Sage King._

_The Kingdom of Jehanna, ruled by Ismaire, Queen of the White Dunes._

_The Theocracy of Rausten, ruled by Mansel, the Divine Emperor._

_The Grado Empire, ruled by Vigarde, the stalwart Silent Emperor._

_For generations, the Great Nations worked together in harmony. Together, they built a peace that would last for centuries._

_But this peace would not last..._

_In the year 803, the Grado Empire launched a sudden and brutal invasion of its long-time ally, Renais. In mere days, Renais was brought to its knees. King Fado, desperate to discern the meaning behind the attack, stays behind as his daughter, Eirika, is sent off to Frelia._

_The prince of Renais, Ephraim, launches a series of hit-and-run battles along the Renais-Grado boarder, though he is ultimately reunited with his sister and together, return to Frelia to plan their next move._

_Unbeknownst to almost anyone, King Vigarde is merely the puppet for a much graver darkness. The Demon King Formortiis has possessed the body of the prince of Grado, Lyon. To ensure his dominion, Formortiis destroys the Sacred Stones, one by one, until only the Sacred Stone of Rausten remains._

_Ephraim and Eirika assemble an army from all five nations and assault the Demon Kings fortress in the Dark Woods. There, they seal his soul away and defeat him, though at the cost of their dear friend Lyon._

_With the darkness vanquished, peace returned to Magvel._

_Eirika wed the Sage of Caer Peylyn, Saleh. With Ephraim's blessing, she made her home with Saleh in Caer Peylyn. Their daughter is said to greatly resemble Nada Kuya._

_Ephraim returned home to become the rightful King of Renais. Many of his first years as king were spent traveling across Magvel, often to the consternation of his knights. After finishing his work in Grado, and after putting his mentor to rest, Ephraim returned to Renais and settled down._

_Frelia offered much aid to Renais and her new king. Unfortunately, a few years after Ephraim ascended, King Hayden passed and his son, Innes, took the throne. Relations between Renais and Frelia cooled considerably, but the likes of Tana and Seth kept either King from acting rashly. As more time passed, relations improved, though Innes was always loathe to call on Renais for aid._

_Jehanna was left to an uncertain fate, as much of the nation did not know of Prince Joshua's survival. However, after losing a game of cards, Joshua ascended the throne with Marisa as his bride. Their combined skill meant that on the mornings after they fought, the great hall would be littered with broken blades. Still, none could deny their love._

_Rausten flourished in the wake of the war. With their claim to the last Sacred Stone, Rausten was frequently the place where many took pilgrimage. L'Arachel took to the new fame with pride and would recant the tale to any who would listen of how she destroyed the Demon King personally, though some question the validity of her claims._

_Grado, perhaps, suffered the worst out of all the nations. In the chaos left from the combined deaths of King Vigarde and Prince Lyon, Duessel and Selena struggled to rebuild their homeland. When Duessel was lost when Grado was split in two from the Great Shattering, many considered it divine retribution for their atrocities. In the end, Ephraim helped to bring stability back to the once great nation, though it continues to suffer in silence._

_Twenty years have passed and peace is once more threatened by a coming darkness. Some work to bring about the end of the world._

_But still, others will stand to defend the light._

_Hope is kindled in a small village within West Grado._

_0-0_

"Ehoron! Come inside already. You're going to catch a cold!" A feminine voice called out from the house, her voice carrying through the crackling of coal and wood. Between the ringing of hammer against iron, Ehoron heard her call and paused mid hammer swing and laughed.

"Mother, I'm fine out here. The hearth is more than enough to keep me warm. Besides, I'm almost through with these horse shoes. Old man Razik will have my backside if I don't deliver these to him by first light." The teen spoke loudly so his mother would hear him, cupping a hand near his mouth. He brought his gloved hand to his forehead and wiped the sweat from his brow against the coarse leather gloves with a sigh.

"Do be careful. I never did like you playing around with that fire. Always made me nervous." He laughed at his mother's chiding and went back to work shaping the horse shoes. Old Man Razik, as the village knew him, was often complaining about one thing or another. He frequently chided children for trespassing upon his land, or about the quality of something or another.

In the deep night, Ehoron worked on the horse shoes. It wasn't that they were particularly difficult in design. Rather, it was that he would stop to examine each shoe time and time again, checking for any imperfections. His father's words rang in his mind as the moon continued to rise and rise into the night sky.

The pale light of the moon was all that illuminated the lands around the village, aside from the flickering light from Ehoron's forge. Weariness began to gnaw at the boy's mind and he let out a disappointed sigh as he finished up another horseshoe. Razik expected at least six dozen shoes by the morn, yet Ehoron had only managed to produce four dozen satisfactory horseshoes. They would just have to do for now.

As Ehoron began to put his tools away, a rustling of leaves brought his attention to bear on a number of trees near his family's property edge. Drawing a heavy hammer up in one hand and a hand pick in the other, Ehoron slowly crept towards the shaking tree, ready to bludgeon whatever might leap out when instead a lump of blue fell at his feet with a groan and a thud.

"Aramin Orindu." Ehoron said matter-of-factly, despite not being able to see the face of whoever had dropped at his feet. "One of these days you'll break your back taking a fall and I won't be there to help you."

From under the tangled cloak, a hand flung itself into the air in a decidedly rude gesture before quickly uncovering its master's face. In stark contrast to Ehoron's wide jaw and hulking frame, Aramin was lean in both face and body. In fact, had it not been for the patch of blond hair on his chin and thick eyebrows, one might mistake him for a girl. "Luck, my friend. You'll break my fall. Good for me, bad for you."

Aramin quickly rose from his undignified place on the ground and dusted himself off. Standing on to Ehoron's shoulder, combined with his somewhat girlish features made it almost impossible to tell the two were separated by only two moons in age. "Busy being all respectable and dependable I take it?" Aramin nodded towards the forge, but didn't bother waiting for an answer. "Never was the life for me."

"And the life for you is one where you get yourself thrown out of bars every night for cheating?" The blacksmith apprentice smirked and shook his head with a faint chuckle, going back to putting his tools away. "Never could play a fair game of cards, could you?"

"It's not my fault they're dumb enough not to cheat. No such thing as a fair fight." Following his friend into the shop, Aramin poked around some, though more out of boredom than any genuine interest. "Besides, they never could –prove– that I cheated." He defended himself lightly, that roguish smirk never leaving his face. "They just don't like losing to someone young enough to be their son."

The light dimmed as Ehoron shut the tuyere, slowly killing the fire off to glowing, angry-red coals and ash. "Cut that fuzz off your face and they might think you were their daughter."

"Oh ha ha." Aramin laughed mirthlessly and made that same rude hand gesture as the pair walked away from the now silent forge. With only the moon to guide them, the pair walked towards a hill on the outskirts of the village. Aramin swooped low and plucked a trio of stones from the ground and began to practice juggling with them. Ehoron preferred to lean against the tall oak tree and watch his friend.

A sudden, bitter wind came from the east, biting into Ehoron's bare shoulders. A light linen shirt and breeches were no protection against the savage wind, causing him to wrap his arms around himself and shiver. "Grado take me, where did this wind come from?" He asked aloud, looking around as if to be shown the answer.

Aramin paused his juggling and grinned as his cloak flapped around him. "Who's the girl now?" Beneath the heavy wool cloak, it was easy to see the sleeves of his shirt as well. Compared to his taller friend, Aramin was very well equipped to the cold weather.

"I swear, I don't see why people call you such dirty names. You're down-right respectable." Ehoron's voice was laced completely with dry sarcasm, only cut by a second gust of wind which took all mirth from the boy's face. "It's colder than a witch's teet out here. I'm going inside."

At that, Aramin seemed to sour and tossed the rocks over his shoulder. "Have it your way. You gonna be up at first light?" Aramin moved to stand under the tree and looked up before grabbing hold of a branch and effortlessly hoisting himself higher. "Not that it's really a question I need answering. You're too predictable for your own good." His voice carried down from the heart of the tree, his frame obscured by the branches and leaves."

"Of course I will. You know you're more than welcome to sleep inside with my mother and I. She worries about you." Ehoron took on a quiet concern for his friend, even as he stood there shivering.

"Oh go on, girlie. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold, would we?" Aramin's scathing reply came, made all the more biting by a fresh blast of freezing air. If he stared hard enough, Ehoron could just make out the outline of his friend curling up across several branches that had been bridged with some extra wood. If he hadn't seen Aramin craft it himself, he might never have known that his friend slept in a tree most nights.

Walking down the hill, Ehoron's gaze turned briefly to his left. A few dozen tombstones stood out against the hill. Two of them specifically stood out to him. Without having to stand in front of them, he knew that they were the tombstones for the Orindu, Aramin's parents. Not much was ever learned about their deaths, save that they were found together in their basement. No physical markings could be found to cut them down, but they were pale and had no warmth to their bodies.

At the urging of the wind, Ehoron hurried along the path towards his house. Just as he reached the door, he froze. Shaggy brown hair whipped about his head, but it could not distract him from that curious noise. For agonizing minutes, Ehoron stood there, utterly frozen for not wanting to making a sound, lest he cover the sound he listened so intently for.

Before he could begin to doubt himself any further, Ehoron looked almost straight up, towards the east, and saw a pair of monstrous wings. Each larger than a house, they carried with them a terrifying form he had only ever thought to exist for parents to scare their children to bed with. Yet there could be no denying what was plain before his eyes. A dragon was flying down from the mountains and headed towards the village.

Terror, the likes of which he had never experienced, filled him. His entire body froze, the air in his lungs seemed to turn to stone and sit on his chest, leaving him unable to make a sound. A real-life dragon! From the tip of one hand, a tiny tremor built in strength until his entire body seemed ready to shake itself apart. What was going to happen now?

The answer to that did not have to wait long as the dragon opened its mouth and let loose a terrifying shriek that seemed to shatter the night itself. Storm clouds rolled over the plains with startling speed and peals of thunder cracked. A great gout of black fire poured over the eastern edge of the village, letting loose a foul stench as screams of panic struck the night.

Freed from his terror, Ehoron threw open the door to his home and ran to his mother's room. She was awake and sitting upright in the bed, looking around in confusion before settling her gaze on her son. "Ehoron? What's going on? What was that noise?"

Without a word, Ehoron reached out and grabbed his mother's wrist and pulled her from the bed. "We have to get out of here, right now." Blindly, they ran through the house and out into the bitter night seconds before a second rush of flames engulfed the house. People were streaming out of the village en masse by now and Ehoron quickly ran to follow them out of the village with his mother.

As they ran, a sudden terrified cry caused him to pause. Skidding to a halt, Ehoron turned around and saw a small girl lying on the ground, arms outstretched. No one else seemed to notice her as they fled for their lives. Despite the protests of his mother, Ehoron ran back and scooped the little girl into his arms. She was deceptively light in his arms, instantly encircling his neck with her tiny arms, crying into his shoulder.

"Ehoron!"

That scream caused the hairs on his neck to stand on end as he spun to face the terrified look on his mother's face as she gestured behind her. Looking above her, he saw the dragon swing around and begin to fly straight towards them.

As one, the people of the village turned and began to climb over each other to run from the coming fire. Looking around, the only place that looked safe to the apprentice was the forge. Breaking away from the crowd, Ehoron ran as fast as his legs would carry him, ever feeling the heat of the flames on his neck. A great roar and a scream from his mother was the last thing he heard before the sound of stone cracking overtook him and blackness reigned.

_0-0_

The doors to the throne room burst open. Banners of blue and silver waved at the sudden gust of wind that came with it. All eyes turned as a soldier ran across in full armor, looking ragged and bloodied from battle. Stopping at the feet of the throne, the soldier all but collapsed to his knees as he battled to bring his breath under control.

"M-My lord… Rausten has invaded Jehanna and Eastern Grado."

Silence fell over the hall at those words as the King leaned forward, resting his chin against his hands. "What of our own boarders?" His voice was quiet, yet seemed to fill the whole hall with the barest of efforts. Behind him, a magnificent lance hung over the throne.

"Our borders are intact, for now. They've made no push against us." The soldier seemed to find his breath and braved chance to look up. All he saw was a flash of silver the spear that hung over the throne pierced armor and dug into the stone floor, holding his form upright, even as his hands seemed to clutch at the haft of the spear.

Shocked cries echoed throughout the halls as the king slowly stood back to his full height, returning his arm to his side before slowly walking down the steps. Beside him, other soldiers looked nervously at each other, unsure of what to make of the king's sudden attack.

"If our borders are intact, then how did you come by your wounds?" The question was poised, the king's voice was just as quiet and calm as before, though it now seemed to stand on the edge of a knife as he stopped in front of the soldier and turned his head to one side. "And since when did we fly the crest of Renais over our left breast?"

More shocked cries took flight in the halls as the soldier suddenly grinned. "Always were a sharp one. It doesn't matter. By week's end, God will shine his light down onto you all and the wretched shall burn away. It is Rausten's divine right to rule over Magvel. There's nothing you c-"

Whatever else he was going to saw was cut short by a flash of steel that sent his head rolling on the ground. Tucking his sword away at his side once more, the king turned and walked up the steps to the throne, where he turned and placed himself as a figure of composure and certainty. "Franz."

"Yes my Lord?" A man stepped up with short blonde hair and piercing green eyes. His frame was covered in plates and the royal crest lay embroiled across the right of the breastplate.

"Rouse your brother, and assemble my generals. At dawn, we're at war."

"At once, King Ephraim."

_0-0_

Author's Notes: With the release of Fire Emblem Awakening looming on the horizon, and my own return to the series replaying Sacred Stones, I decided to do something of a sequel to a game, I feel, received a lot of undeserved animosity and unfulfilled potential.

Now, right off the bat, I'm sure many of you are noting inconsistencies. 'But wait, didn't Selena die?' 'Hold on, Joshua never married Marisa.' I freely admit to making some alterations due to my own personal feelings and ideas. These changes will affect the story; sometimes in minor ways, others in a much larger scope. All I ask is that you give me a chance to do justice to this great story.

As always, I ask that you please review the story. I don't ask for a review each chapter read. That'd be a nightmare. I just ask for your honest opinion. Whether it's just a little note offering appreciation and gratitude for my efforts, or creative literary criticism, as long as it is kept civil, I welcome every review.


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